


By the Campfire

by literaryoblivion



Series: Freck's Valentine Prompt Fest [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Campfires, Camping, Canon Compliant, Confessions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marshmallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 01:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30114933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: Dean takes a much needed break from hunting by going camping and when Castiel shows up right before he's about to leave, he decides to drag the angel along with him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Freck's Valentine Prompt Fest [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143128
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	By the Campfire

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following prompt: Pairing is Destiel, prompt is simply: *marshmallows*

In the rare weekend when they have no cases (or at least cases that still require more research and aren’t dire), Dean decides he needs a good ol’ camping trip. The whole shebang, find some remote place in a quiet area with no cell signal or light pollution, cook over a fire, and fall asleep to the sound of crickets under the stars. 

They can’t all go because one of them has to be available by cell phone in case something happens, and Sam wouldn’t choose to sleep on the cold hard ground if he can help it, so he volunteers to stay behind. Fine by Dean; the nice solitude where he can just be in nature and not try to fight it will be great by himself.

That is until Castiel pops in while Dean is packing up the Impala, and Dean has the bright idea to take the angel with him on this weekend camping trip.

“I don’t sleep, Dean.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll sleep, and you can creepily watch over me.” Cas doesn’t say a word, probably because he already does that without Dean’s knowledge anyway. “Come on, you can keep me company instead of just my thoughts.”

With a sigh, Cas nods and gets into the passenger seat as Dean loads the last of the food and gear and shuts the trunk. The campsite isn’t too far (Dean can’t actually be hours away just in case he has to rush back), and the 30 minute or so drive is mostly silent. The radio plays Dean’s classic rock station, and Cas sits quietly, staring out the window.

“Did you come in for a particular reason?” Dean asks, realizing that he didn’t ask and Cas didn’t say why he’d shown up right at that moment. “I kind of just took you away, but did you need something?”

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Cas shake his head.

“Really, Cas? You don’t usually show up out of the blue for nothing.” He turns his head, and it might be the sunsetting as they drive, but he thinks Cas’s ears might be red.

“I…,” Cas starts, then takes a breath and adds, “missed you.”

Dean feels his face heat, and he swivels his head back to look at the road stretched in front of him. They pass a sign for the campgrounds indicating it's approaching, and he coughs and points that they’re almost there. He feels dumb, and as much as he wants to say he missed Cas, too, which is the whole reason he dragged him along, he can’t just _say_ that. It’s too embarrassing. Cas is braver than he is, always has been.

They pull into the park and drive until they reach the end of the paved road, a parking lot. “We have to walk the rest of the way,” Dean says, pulling into a spot and turning off the car and popping the trunk. Cas nods and exits and starts gathering their gear.

There’s not much. Dean had only packed enough food and gear for himself, not expecting the angel to come along, but given that Cas admittedly doesn’t need to eat or sleep, they’ll probably be fine. 

With his arms full of most of the gear (because he insisted), Cas follows behind Dean along the dirt path to the sectioned off sites along the water. There’s a few people with tents already pitched, so Dean walks further trying to find a spot away from them. When he finds a spot he deems satisfactory, out of earshot from the others at least, he sets the gear he has down.

“Here’s good,” he says. “I’ll set up the tent if you want to set up the fire before it gets darker?” he asks Cas, pointing to the circle of rocks filled with dirt and ash that someone else had set up before them.

He starts to work on the tent while Cas wanders near by to gather some stray sticks and leaves for kindling. By the time Cas has gotten the fire going and has set up the camping chairs, Dean is through setting up the tent and is pulling out the food he brought to cook. He went simple and nostalgic for the meal and skewers a couple hot dogs to some roasting sticks. He hands one of them to Cas who stares at it confused until he sees Dean take his and hold it over the fire.

There’s only a sliver of the sun left in the horizon, and it quickly disappears with the moon taking its place and the bonfire providing most of the light. The accompaniment is the sizzle of their hot dogs, the crackling of the fire, and the various buzzing from the bugs. Cas doesn’t say much while they cook their food and eventually eat it (at Dean’s insistence Cas takes a bite and declares it “adequate for someone needing energy for their body, I suppose”).

While the food settles, Dean, unprompted, starts to tell Cas about the one camping trip he remembers going on with his parents before Sam was born. His mom had made him hot dogs just like they had, and how his dad had forgotten to pack buns so they just ate it off the stick like a “naked corn dog” as his dad called it.

“But the best part when you’re camping is this!” Dean holds up a bag of marshmallows and a package of graham crackers and chocolate as if in victory.

“I don’t see how marshmallows are the best part of camping?” Cas asks eyeing the sugary snacks with suspicion.

“It’s a s’more, Cas.”

“Some more of what?”

“No. A _s’more._ Do you want one?”

“How can I have some more of something I haven’t had?”

Dean closes his eyes and sighs. “S’more, it’s like a sugar sandwich. Here, I’ll show you.” He takes the sticks they had used for the hot dogs, shoving marshmallows on the ends and putting them over the fire. He rotates them but they catch flame anyway, and he quickly blows it out and puts it back in the fire to make it more even. He blows it out one more time and then demonstrates to Cas how to assemble it, smashing the marshmallow down with a cracker.

“And that,” he says holding the creation up and out to Cas, “is a s’more.”

Cas takes it and stares at it a moment. “It seems messy.”

“Oh, it is,” Dean replies, grinning, starting to roast another marshmallow to make himself one.

Slowly, Cas takes a bite and chews, and before Dean finishes making his own, Cas is finished and licking stickiness off his fingers. It makes Dean pause briefly, though he tries to snap himself out of it and go back to his task.

“That was delicious. I like s’mores.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re welcome to make your own.” He hands Cas the stick he just used and watches as Cas roasts his own marshmallow.

For the most part, Cas handles the process himself. But, at one point Cas ends up getting gooey marshmallow all over his fingers because he attempts to take the marshmallow off the stick with his hand instead of securing it with a cracker first. Dean comes to his rescue before it becomes disastrous, but it still results in Cas licking the sweet mess off his hand, which might make Dean uncomfortable, particularly in his pants.

He tries to subtly adjust himself as Cas goes back to enjoying his second s’more and looks into the fire to have something else besides Cas to stare at. When he does eventually look at Cas, Cas is brushing crumbs from his lap and eyeing the bag of marshmallows like he wants to make another one.

It makes Dean smile and continue to stare while Cas seems to have an internal struggle on a third s’more or not. In the light of the fire, Cas looks even more beautiful than normal, and Dean can’t take his eyes away. Cas’s eyes reflect the flickering flames and his features take on an almost ethereal yet soft glow, fitting given the dichotomy of Castiel--a powerful celestial being who cares deeply about the lowly humans in his charge, about Dean. Dean, who he missed and mojo-ed himself to because he wanted to.

They both eat one more s’more, and when Dean notices a smear of chocolate in the corner of Cas’s mouth, he lets himself be unembarrassed about wiping it away for him with a thumb and licking it off. He’s pretty sure he and Cas have matching blushes on their cheeks, but it’s difficult to tell by the firelight. 

They’ve ended up with their chairs right beside each other, facing the fire, their hands slightly brushing where they sit on the armrest. Dean doesn’t take Cas’s hand though, not strong enough to do so. The chocolate gave him an excuse, now he has nothing, no reason to hold Cas’s hand except that he wants to, which isn’t a good enough reason.

So he doesn’t and instead leans his head back to stare up at the stars and lets out a sigh, internally cursing himself for being chicken shit and afraid of his own feelings. Cas notices his stargazing and points out the constellations and their origins, who had a hand in putting them together. It’s fascinating and soothing in turn to listen to Cas’s deep rumble, and he closes his eyes letting it wash over him.

He hadn’t meant to doze off, but he wakes to Cas nudging his shoulder, the dying embers the only thing left of the fire. 

“Come on, you need rest, preferably not in a chair,” Cas says, standing and holding out his hand to Dean. Dreary, Dean takes his hand for the help out of the chair, but now that he’s got Cas's hand, his half-asleep brain won’t let go of it. Cas doesn’t say anything about it and continues to hold Dean’s hand as he kicks dirt on the last of the fire and guides him to the tent.

Eventually Dean lets go to get himself settled and unzip his sleeping bag and climb in. Cas is bent awkwardly beside him, looking unsure of his place or what to do. Dean takes his hand, ignoring how he can do it now and couldn’t before, and pulls Cas down beside him.

“I know you don’t sleep, but lay down here and humor me. You’re making me uncomfortable squatting like that.”

Obliging, Cas lays down on his side next to Dean so they’re facing each other. It’s too dark for Dean to see any kind of expression on Cas’s face, and he’s too tired to analyze it if he could. He feels Cas’s breath though, the warmth of his body, hears the rustle of his trench coat that he’s still wearing as he moves to make himself comfortable. Mixed with the music of nature outside, it’s his lullaby, and he starts to fall asleep again.

Just before he fully falls under, he quietly lets out his secret in the space between them: “I missed you, too, Cas,” and he dreams of a warm and gentle hand gripping his own and a soft kiss against his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [my tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [my twitter.](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion)


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